


St. Rose's Catholic School

by iza_bee



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Catholic School, F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, eren's really devout, they get in trouble for swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-30
Updated: 2014-06-19
Packaged: 2018-01-17 12:36:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1387888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iza_bee/pseuds/iza_bee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The 104th are students at St. Rose's Catholic School. They have math class and make new friends and go to formal and get in fist fights and it's wild.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Ok so this is my first fic here (and essentially my first actual real developed fic ever) and it's pretty exciting...I'm pretty into this idea.  
> This chapter is r e a l l y short and it's basically just setting up who the main characters are gonna be and their relationships and that sort of housekeeping stuff. I promise it will get more exciting later.  
> Please enjoy!

September 3rd, 11:53 PM

 _Tap, tap, tap._ I was deep in sleep when the persistent sound roused me. I rolled out of bed slowly, running a hand through my hair and crossing to the window. Through it, I could see the grinning face of my friend, Sasha Braus. _Please, let this be a nightmare._ In the tree she’d climbed up was some kid with a buzz cut I’d never seen before. God knew what she wanted with me now.

I flung open the window, hissing, “Jesus, Sash. It’s, like, midnight. I actually have to sleep sometime.”

“Don’t take the Lord’s name in vain,” she said, mock-seriously, then punched me in she shoulder. _Ow._ “C’mon, Jean, it’s the last night before school starts and my parents are out of town. Let’s live it up a little.” I rolled my eyes, but she just climbed in through the window and started going through my closet. She retrieved a pair of semi-clean jeans and a red T-shirt, threw them at me, and climbed back out the window.

“See you on the porch!” she said with a manic grin, then slid down the tree. 

I dressed quickly, threw on a pair of sneakers, and climbed out the way Sasha had gone. She and the kid were sitting on the porch railing with lit cigarettes hanging out of the corner of their mouths. I didn’t even _ask_ where Sasha had swiped those from. “When did _you_ start smoking?” I asked her.

She shrugged in response. “Mid-July? I just felt like givin’ it a try. I have one for you, too.” She held out an unlit cigarette and a lighter. I smacked her hand away harder than I’d intended, sending the cigarette flying. _Oops._ “Thanks a ton, Jean.” she said sourly. 

“And just who, may I ask, is this?” I said, gesturing to the kid she was with. He looked younger than us, and I hadn’t seen him around before.

“This, my good man, is Connie Springer.” She placed a hand on his shoulder. “He just moved in next to me. He’s starting grade nine at St. Rose’s tomorrow. He’s pretty much the raddest dude you will ever meet.” I couldn’t believe she’d said that with a straight face. Connie grinned at me.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” I said, looking Sasha dead in the eye. “ _Starting_ grade nine? Have you really stooped so low as to lead little kids astray?” He looked hurt. “Hey, man, no offense. But seriously. What are you, like, twelve?”

“I’m fourteen,” he corrected me. “My birthday was in June.” _Great,_ I thought. _I just insulted him for being young and he’s pretty much the same damn age as me._

“Well, I guess it’s too late for you to get out of this now,” I said. “He can stay.”

“Oh, please,” Sasha rolled her eyes at me. “As if you call the shots on who hangs out with us. May I remind you who introduced themselves to you while you were sitting alone in homeroom five years ago? That’s right, me.” 

“Whatever.” I shot back. I’d never been very good with witty banter, but Sasha made up for it in spades. “Let’s just get out of here before my parents catch us. And so help me, Sasha, if I smell like smoke when I get home…”

We walked in silence down the streets, cars not paying us much attention if they passed. It was late, and Trost was dead by now. Except for us ‘delinquent hooligans’, of course. I rolled my eyes at what Sasha insisted on calling us. We walked up Sasha’s driveway ten minutes later and she led us in through the living room to the stairs. From Sasha’s room on the second floor, we could climb through the window and up onto the roof. We’d been coming up here ever since we were kids. Connie was a little hesitant, but to his credit he didn’t wig out or go back downstairs.

“Hey, Kirschstein,” Sasha turned to me. “Where’s your boyfriend? I thought you texted him to meet us here.”

“If you are referring to me,” said a voice as I shook my head. “I can only say that you insult my taste.” A head of messy black hair popped up over the edge of the roof, followed by a smiling, freckled face. 

“Marco!” Sasha squealed, rushing forward to hug him. “How’d you know we were up here?”

“Where else would you be on the last night before school? In bed?” He asked, grin still in place. “And get rid of that.” He plucked the cigarette from between her lips, snuffed it out on the drainpipe, and chucked it off the roof.

Sasha didn’t seem to mind. “Marco, this is Connie Springer, our new…protegé.” she said, gesturing from one to the other. “Connie, this is Marco Bodt, our only good influence.” I made a sound of fake offense.

“Hey,” said Connie, holding out his hand. Marco shook it enthusiastically, then came to lie down beside us. We all lay under the night sky, enjoying our last moments of freedom before we went back to St. Rose’s the next day. For a few minutes we were all silent.

“So, you guys ready for school tomorrow?” Marco asked.

Sasha propped herself up on her elbows. “Get the hell off my roof.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sasha is a bad friend, Armin gets jobbed, and Levi is a scary man

September 4th, 6:02 AM

 

Dawn found me still on the roof of the Braus home, the first rays of sunlight waking me. I realized with a jolt where I was.Clumsily, I crawled to the edge of the flat roof and climbed in through Sasha’s window. She was lying, still in her clothes from last night, asleep on top of her bed with her feet in Marco’s lap. Connie was nowhere to be seen, presumably having returned home earlier in the morning.

I shook her awake mercilessly. She opened her eyes slowly, eyes focussing on me and surprise dawning on her face. “Shit, did I leave you on the roof?”

I just narrowed my eyes at her.

“I did, didn’t I. I left you on the roof. God _damn it._ Go home, go home. There’s still time before your dad gets up, isn’t there? What time is it?” Sasha was wide awake now, rummaging in her bedside drawer and pulling out a cigarette.

She lit it and rolled into a sitting position, dragging her hair into a messy bun. “I’m still dressed, school’s in two hours…what are you still doing here? Your dad is going to flip, Jean, if he goes to wake you and you’re not there. Move your ass!”

“You could at least feed me. And tell the truth—were you or were you not absolutely _trashed_ last night?”

“Completely and utterly. Why, does that surprise you?”

“Not at all. I’m going to hide the Tylenol. Enjoy your first day at school hungover.”

She flipped me the bird in silence, going to smoke out the open window.

I made my way downstairs into the kitchen, rummaging through the cabinets and chucking every bottle of painkiller into the back where I knew Sasha couldn’t reach. Revenge was sweet. Sasha came downstairs minutes later, dragging a sleepy Marco by the arm.

“Why are we up so early? What is Jean still doing here? It’s, like, six in the morning, dude, go home.”

I chucked the tab of a new milk carton at his head. “You didn’t notice she left me out there? I can’t even trust you, Mr. No-Curfew.” I started heating milk to make coffee and grabbed a loaf of bread from the cupboard under the sink.

I knew Sasha’s kitchen fairly well, having spent many the long day here without adult supervision. I’d made this very same meal for us countless times—grilled cheese and coffee was our favourite, albeit a strange combination. Admittedly, though, it was just about the only thing I could keep from burning.

“Get the cheese out, Sash.” I instructed. 

“Are you gonna grill me a cheese?” She asked, throwing the fridge door open almost violently. 

“You don’t _deserve_ grilled cheese.” 

“Grill the woman a cheese, Jean,” Marco said placatingly. 

“Yeah.” Sasha slid the block of cheese along the counter toward me. I worked on breakfast quietly, Sasha doing most of the talking, going on about some gossip or other. For a girl with very few female friends, she seemed to know an excessive amount about the sexual exploits of the other girls in our grade.

“What was grade ten even like, Marco? I heard it was hell.” She turned away from the oven, where she was watching the grilled cheese cook.

“Well, it’s the first year they stick you with Levi for math,” he said with a chuckle. “So, you know, that’s fun.” He placed undue emphasis on the word ‘fun,’ leading me to believe that math class with the infamous Mr. Levi was anything but. 

“Yeah, I heard he was a whole other level of crazy,” I said. “I heard he used to be some sort of thug until he reformed and became a teacher.”

“There’s definitely rumors,” Marco said, neither confirming nor denying that the math teacher had, in fact, been a criminal. “I dunno, maybe they’re trying to reform him—you know, do the Christian thing.”

The oven dinged, and Sasha let out a yelp of joy. It wasn’t the first time that I wondered how she managed to eat so much, do so little, and stay so thin. Her only real physical activity came in the 20-minute walk to and from school, which hardly counted.

The tray of grilled cheese went fast—we were all hungrier than we’d originally imagined. Sasha filled us in more about that Connie guy, and we speculated about what romances would surface this year.

“I hate to tell you this, Jean, but I’m pretty sure Mikasa’s finally going to get it together and tell Eren she likes him.” Sasha shrugged. “At least, she was talking about him a whole lot at Christa’s sleepover, you know, all ‘I texted him twelve times and he didn’t reply, is he ignoring me? Is he ok? I mean, it’s not weird for me to be concerned, is it?’ that sort of gross crushy stuff.”

Marco feigned a hiss of pain. “Ooh, sorry, dude. That’s rough. Isn’t that Eren kid, like, your arch-nemesis or something?”

“Since we were six,” I said through gritted teeth. 

Sasha snorted. “If by arch-nemesis, you mean someone he picks fights with so Mikasa will talk to him, then yeah, he’s Jean’s arch-nemesis.”

“Excuse m-”

“Okay, break it up, you two. Jean, go home, your dad wakes you up at 7:30 and it’s 7:15 right now. Sasha, go get dressed. And I’ll see you both at school in an hour!” Marco stepped in and deftly steered us both away from each other. 

As I walked out the door, I called a final goodbye and set out for my house. I had to basically sprint _and_ climb a tree at light speed just to throw pajamas on and dive into bed, and not a minute too soon. My dad came in at 7:30 none the wiser, seeming a little suspicious only when I jumped immediately out of bed, wide awake. 

“ _Warum ist du immer noch im Schlafanzug_?” He asked, as he did every morning. Why are you still in your pajamas? 

 _Because you didn’t come in to get me yet,_ I thought bitterly. Instead, I answered, “Sorry, dad, I’ll hurry up.”

“You had better,” he said harshly. “School starts in forty-five minutes.” He shut the door to my room and I flopped back down on my bed, relieved. I’d made it back in time. I changed into my school uniform, grimacing as I tied my tie for the first time in three months. 

After grabbing my bag from the corner where it’d weathered out the summer, I threw my phone, wallet, pencils, and a notebook into it and slung it over one shoulder. I didn’t bother doing anything to my hair—it wouldn’t hold any shape. 

When I got downstairs, I found my mom and dad eating breakfast—eggs and toast.

“Jean! Do you want to eat before you go?” Unlike my dad, my mom preferred to speak in English to me. Her French accent was barely detectable, only becoming prominent when she said my name.

“I’m ok, mom,” I said. I didn’t eat breakfast too often, so she didn’t get suspicious. She just rolled her eyes.

“You kids, always running around somewhere.” She reached out to ruffle my hair. “Have a good day at school, _mon petit_.” 

“Bye, mom. Bye, dad.” I rushed past them, stepping into my shoes, and slammed the door behind me. My parents were great, don’t get me wrong, but having two European immigrant parents for whom English wasn’t a first language can be tiring.

The upside was that I could speak French and German fluently, but that hardly outweighed their intensity about grades, disapproval of my friends, and constant wondering where I was, what I was doing, and who I was with.

Sasha joined me at the corner of her block, a tired-looking Connie dragging his feet behind her. “Hey!” she waved at me enthusiastically. 

“Someone’s in a good mood. That traitor Marco got you Tylenol, didn’t he.”

Sasha just flashed me a shit-eating grin.

“So, Connie, are you looking forward to, you know, high school?” I attempted conversation, but I doubted that he’d even heard me. He had earbuds buried deeper in his ears than was probably healthy, and the music was blaring at such a volume that I could have identified the song if I’d known it. “Nice chat, we’ll do it again.” I muttered.

We rounded the final corner towards school. The dark brick building loomed next to the church it shared a name with, and kids were milling about in groups on the front lawn. I immediately made eye contact with that total ass Eren Jaeger, who just narrowed his eyes at me in a silent challenge.

“Top of the morning to you, asswipe!” I called brightly. “Ready for another year in the light of God?”

“Fuck you, too.” Eren replied, flipping me off. Behind him, Mikasa was texting someone at a feverish pace. 

“What’s happening, Mikasa?” I asked casually, giving her my most charming smile.

“Legitimately nothing.” She replied. “And yourself?”

“Same here. Hey, what do you say we go for lun-”

“We’re busy at lunch.” Eren jumped in.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t asking you!” I tried to be civil, but he wouldn’t let up.

“Well, Mikasa’s eating with me, so…” 

“Another time, then.” I said, addressing Mikasa, who just nodded. I could hear Eren muttering something along the lines of _why did you nod at that tool_ as I walked off to find my friends. The trouble I went through just to get a date was ridiculous.

When I arrived at the corner of the yard where I usually hung out, Marco had joined Sasha and Connie and they were all sitting together. 

“Oh, God, Jean, your face…” Sasha started cracking up. “What _happened_?”

“Just dealing with Jaeger over there. What the fuck is his deal, anyway?” I asked, sitting down heavily. “Why can’t he just let me go on _one date_ with Mikasa? It’s not like they’re related. Being childhood friends doesn’t make you someone’s property…I mean, if someone wanted to date Marco, I wouldn’t get all pissy about it.”

“That’s different,” Sasha interjected. “He’s not a prospective date for you, so it doesn’t matter. I’m telling you, those two are both _dying_ for a chance to go out, but they’re both too dense to see that the other feels the same way.”

“Whatever. Let’s go see the homeform lists.” I stood up, and the others followed me. I purposely didn’t look at Eren or his little posse as we passed them, even though Armin was just about the nicest guy ever and was waving at us. 

The good news: Sasha and I were in the same homeform. The bad news: It was Mr. Levi’s homeform, and Eren Jaeger was in it. _Great_. Connie was in Sister Zoe’s homeform, and we couldn’t stop stressing how lucky he was. He’d dodged a bullet—the other homeform was Mr. Bossard, and not only did he love intimidation tactics, but he also could not care less about teaching or about kids. Marco got lucky, too. He was in Sister Ral’s homeform—the sweet, friendly arts teacher. 

It was 8:10, and everybody started out to class. We exchanged ‘see-you’s and headed back into the hallways of our school. Our homeform was on the top floor, so we had a ways to go. We arrived just as the bell was ringing, which earned us a dirty look from Mr. Levi, who was standing with clipboard in hand at the front of the classroom. 

I recognized his face from yearbooks and from seeing him around school, but I hadn’t realized before how _supremely short_ he was. He was 5’3 at best—I had at least 6 inches on him. “Thanks for joining us,” he deadpanned. _For someone so short, he sure was intimidating._

Sasha and I just nodded and went to take two seats at the back of the room. Mr. Levi took attendance practically at light speed, only pausing long enough for you to raise an arm or spit out the first part of ‘here.’ When he determined that everyone was present, he sat down at his desk and told us to ‘do whatever the hell you want, I’m not about to do some get-to-know-you crap.’ 

The entire room was silent for a solid five minutes before some moron with sideburns— _seriously, who the fuck has sideburns in the tenth grade?—_ piped up and asked in a whisper, “Is he asleep?”

When there was no answer, everyone settled down and a quiet chatter started up. “Oh my God, he’s as terrifying as they say.” Sasha came to sit on my desk. “I can’t believe we have  a whole year of this ahead.”

“Yeah,” I concurred, laying my forehead on my desk.

“Look at Armin, though, he looks like he’s about to crap himself.” I raised my head to look at him. He was in the front row, keener that he was, only about four feet from Levi’s feet where they lay on his desk.

He looked genuinely terrified, sitting tensely in his seat, eyes wide, trying not to move. I would have laughed, were it not for the fact that if I was in his position I’d be doing the exact same thing—I almost felt sorry for him.

When the bell rang for first period, everyone breathed a collective sigh of relief. Our class schedules were in a stack by the door, and everyone picked theirs up, checking where they should be going.

_Oh, great._

_Math._

The classroom they listed Math in wasn’t too far away, so I made my way there quickly. If I was early, I could hide in the back of the room and not have to spend too much quality time with Levi. I couldn’t even put a ‘Mr.’ before it in my mind—it didn’t suit him.

I broke out into a grin when Mikasa walked through the door—maybe I’d finally be able to make a move in this class. Unfortunately, right behind her (as always) was Eren. She waved and started moving towards the seat next to me, but Eren took a seat right in the middle of the room and started patting the desk next to him impatiently. 

She tossed me an apologetic look and sat down. Eren tried to engage her in conversation, but she seemed distracted. _Sasha doesn’t know what she’s talking about. She’s treating him like a little kid—that doesn’t look like a crush to me_. 

Just as the last stragglers were taking their seats, Levi walked through the door and slammed his stuff on the desk at the front of the room. “Right,” he said, calling attention to himself. “I’ll just get this out there now—I’m an atheist, so don’t go on and on about any of your Catholic…stuff…in this class.”

I saw it happening before it registered—Eren’s hand shot up in the air. Levi had picked the wrong kid to say that in front of—of all the kids at this school, the only one who actually seemed to give a shit about religion was right there in the middle of the room, and he was _mad._

“Excuse me, _sir_ ,” the word was full of contempt. “Were you previously aware that you work at a _Catholic_ school?” 

It seemed at first like Levi was going to ignore him, but suddenly he was next to Eren’s desk, seeming to tower over Eren despite his small stature. “Were _you_ previously aware that this is _my_ classroom? So unless your next sentence has something to do with quadratic equations, _shut the fuck up and sit down._ ”

Everyone gasped. I’d heard teachers swear before, but never _at_ a student. Eren sat down so quickly that it seemed almost painful. Levi walked calmly back to the front of the class, picked up his book, and started his rapid-fire attendance.

After that, there were no more disturbances. Eren barely breathed for the rest of the class, and I just slouched down behind my book to keep from making eye contact with him. _Note to self—don’t cross this guy._

When the bell rang, I got the hell out of there as fast as I could, checking my schedule then rushing off to get to English. 

Other than the incident in Math, the day was uneventful. It turned out Sasha was in my bio class, and that Marco and I shared a free period—and it was last. We decided to head home, leaving Sasha to walk with Connie. 

“How was it?” he asked as we walked through the doors. I had been waiting all day to talk about Math class. 

“You should have been there in Math this morning, Jesus Christ, does Eren have a death wish or something?” It had been scary at the time, but now it was just hilarious. The image of tiny Mr. Levi striking terror into the heart of super-aggressive Eren came back to me.

“What happened?” 

“So Mr. Levi gets up and he’s like ‘oh, I’m an atheist,’ and Eren just _shoots up out of his seat_ all ‘Sir, were you aware this is a _Catholic_ school?’” I took on Eren’s self-righteous tone. “And Levi just gets all in his face and goes ‘If what you’re about to say doesn’t have to do with quadratic equations, shut the fuck up and sit down,’ and everybody just-” I gasped for effect. “And Eren sat down so hard he probably bruised his ass, and like it’s funny now but right then? I would have gladly just fallen through the floor forever, it was _terrifying_.”

We both started cackling like idiots, doubled over in the middle of the street. “It’s…not even…that…funny!” He forced out between peals of laughter. 

“I…know…” I replied, gasping for air.  
Eventually, we calmed down enough to keep walking. I wiped tears from my eyes with a “Whoo…” We were chuckling all the way back to his house, where he let himself in. 

“Ciao, nonna!” he called, greeting his grandmother. “É Marco!” 

“Marchino!” Marco’s grandmother shuffled out of the sitting room. “Com’é andato la scuola?” She reached up to grab his face, pulling him down to her to give him a hug. He’d gotten tall the past year or so, and was almost a foot taller than her now.

“Bene, nonna.”

She turned her affections on me, wrapping me in her arms. “Ah, Jean, it has been a while since you came to visit, no? I’ll make your favourite lasagna tonight?”

“Hi, nonna!” I had long since started calling her that. I’d been a fixture in the Bodt household for so long that I was practically part of the family. “I’d love that, thanks!” 

She patted my arm and waved me past. “Go, go have fun. I can tell Marco doesn’t want to stay here with his old nonna.” 

Marco swooped down and kissed her cheek, calling, “Chiamami se hai bisogno di qualcosa!” as we walked down the hall towards the stairs. Climbing up them, I could hear a familiar voice talking on the phone.

“Dude, is that Bianca?” I turned to Marco, eyes wide in surprise. “You didn’t tell me she was home, what the heck?”

Marco’s older sister was in second year university, and had always done double-duty as my older sister, too. The only other kids in my family were my annoying older cousins Anne and Robert, so I’d never really been exposed to older kid stuff. 

“Yeah, she spent the summer with our cousins in Italy, but her semester doesn’t start for another week, so she came to visit!”

“Oh, man, let’s freak her out.” Marco frowned.

“Come _on_. Are you twelve?”

“Maybe.” I replied, sliding along the wall towards Bianca’s open door. She was still chatting away, completely unaware. I waited until just the right moment, then—

I leaped in, landing on the bed next to her, yelling maniacally. Bianca let out a shrill scream, then noticed it was me. Scarily calm, she said into the phone: “I gotta go, Mary, my brother and his dork friend just got here,” and hung up. She turned her head towards me, very slowly, then suddenly, she pounced. 

 _Oh, God._ She shoved her hands into my sides, tickling mercilessly. I exploded into uncontrollable laughter, swatting at her ineffectively. “Jean! You little fucker!” she finally let up. 

“Ahh, you know you love me.” I said, holding my arms out for a hug.

“Yeah,” she conceded, grabbing me and squeezing me tightly. “How have you been? God, it feels like forever!”

“Fine, fine. Wasting time, sleeping too much, getting betrayed by your brother, you know, the usual.”

“Mmmhm,” she nodded. “What did he do this time?”

“Let Sasha let me fall asleep on the roof, and let her leave me up there _all night_. I almost got busted.”

“Typical Marco,” Bianca shook her head. After a moment of thought, she added, “Typical _Sasha_.” She turned to the door, where Marco leaned against the doorframe, smirking at us.

“I forgot how much you guys like to gang up on me,” he said, coming to join us.

“It’s what we’re here for, little brother! Or…big brother, I guess? How tall are you even?” She elbowed him in the ribs. 

“Like, 5’10,” he sighed, flopping dramatically into her lap. “I’m not even that much taller than you. What are you, 5’6?”

“Yeah, but that’s four inches, you dink.” She poked his nose. “I’d say that counts as ‘that much taller.’”

“You guys are disgusting. Excuse me while I go puke.” I said, resting my legs across Marco’s stomach. 

“Yeah, keep pretending you’re not jealous because you don’t have a cool older sister.” Bianca stuck her tongue out at me.

I decided to go for the cheesy answer—“But I do!”

Bianca actually blushed. “You are just as cute now as you were when you were four. And  you were right, Marco, he did get hot!” She grinned.

I felt myself turning red. Marco’s face fell. He looked at Bianca, shock on his face, and for a moment her smile faltered, but she recovered so quickly I wondered if I’d just imagined it. 

“Jesus, you two, relax. I’m just kidding around.” She winked, but the whole thing seemed forced. I wondered briefly what was going on, but then Bianca started telling us stories about her life at university and we all laughed and the moment was gone, left behind. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do speak Italian and French, but not German, so let me know if the German is no good and I'll fix it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Woo exposition and new characters!

September 4th, 7:30 PM

 

“Nonna, this is _amazing_ ,” I enthused, shovelling lasagna into my mouth. “It’s been ages since I had this, thank-you so much!” 

She nodded, her eyes crinkling up at the corners in a tiny smile. “It’s my job.” There was laughter all around the table. Everyone was home now, and we all sat in the cozy dining room to eat. I was comfortable here—it was like a second home.

“Jean, honey, what time are your parents expecting you home?” Mrs. Bodt chimed in from the head of the table. Sometimes it surprised me how much she looked like her kids—just shorter. Mrs. Bodt was a little woman—barely 5’2. In fact, just about the only thing that the kids had inherited from their dad was their height and their freckles. Both of the Bodt kids were absolutely covered in freckles—and I mean absolutely. I’ve seen them in bathing suits. 

“Oh, no time. My dad’s working late and my mom knows I’m here.” I shrugged, taking another bite of lasagna.

“Do you need a ride? I’m sure Bianca—” Bianca opened her mouth to protest, but Mrs. Bodt cut her off, “ _or I_ would be happy to drive you.”

“I might as well walk, it’s nice out anyway.” Mrs. Bodt frowned, but I waved away her concerns. “It’s nothing, I walk home at night all the time.”

“Well, okay. As long as your mother’s all right with it.” I nodded. It was one of those times when I wondered if they could just adopt me—I’d be happy to come live in this world of favours and sibling-bonding. 

Unfortunately, my own parents were pretty attached to me. I smiled at my own joke. Looking up, I noticed Marco’s eyes on me. I turned to face him, but he just looked away. After a couple awkward moments, he suddenly stood. “Hey, can we be excused?”

“But I’m still ea-” I tried to protest, but he kicked me under the table.

“Marco, your dad just got home! Have a seat.” Mrs. Bodt frowned at her son. 

“Mom, Jean and I just want to hang out. It was the first day of school.”

“Claudia, let them go. It’s fine.” Mr. Bodt shrugged. “I see Marco every day, it’s no big deal.”

Mrs. Bodt looked like she wanted to tell him that _I_ saw Marco every day, too, but she let it slide and told us to go ahead. We made our way back upstairs, and I waited until we were up in his room to ask, “Okay, what the hell was that all about?”

“What was what all about?”

“All…that! That scene, you were just sitting there and then suddenly, BOOM! Time to go. Just…what _was_ that?”

“Nothing. Nothing, okay? Let’s just hang out. Let’s do something. That was boring and I want to waste time and not do homework.” He was being evasive, which was weird for someone who usually tended to overshare. I didn’t want to press the issue, though, so I decided to drop it. I was about to ask what he wanted to do when the doorbell rang.

“That’ll be Ymir.” he said, face settling into a scowl.

“Ymir? Who’s Ymir?” I asked. The name meant nothing to me. _Was this what he didn’t want to talk about?_

“My cousin. She’s, uh, staying here for a while and she can be kind of difficult, so…don’t let her get under your skin too much, okay?”

“Marco, that’s…that’s like asking a bird to _walk_ south for the winter. I can barely stand Sasha on off days, what makes you think I’m not going to let this random cousin under my skin?”

He sighed. “Well, I tried. Let’s go say hi.” I followed him down the stairs to the front hall, to find a girl who spookily looked simultaneously exactly like Marco and nothing like him at all. They shared the dark hair, olive skin, and rampant freckles that characterized the Bodts, but she was lanky and wiry, and lacked the smiling eyes that I had come to associate with Marco, Bianca, and the rest of their family. She stood there, arms crossed defensively, face set in a scowl. A giant, lumpy duffle bag sat at her feet, and she had a backpack hanging on her elbow.

“Hey, Ymir!” Marco forced a smile and went in for a hug. Ymir just awkwardly wrapped an arm around his shoulders, replying to the hello with a grunt. “Um, this is my friend, Jean. Jean, this is my cousin, Ymir Bodt.”

She nodded at me. “Hey.” Even the one syllable was disinterested. Her voice wasn’t musical like the rest of Marco’s family. I returned the hey, shaking her hand. She let go of Marco, and we might have been stuck standing there awkwardly for a long time had Nonna not come rushing forward, enveloping Ymir in a tight squeeze. 

“Ymir! Come stai, dolcezza?” she asked gently. Ymir’s face lit up, transforming her from a sort of intimidating pretty to genuinely beautiful. I could see the family resemblance clearly now.

“Sto okay, nonna. Sto okay.” It was a noncommital answer, and something in the pit of my stomach told me she was lying. I remembered what Marco had said when I asked what Ymir was doing here: _She’s staying here for a while_. Why? Whose cousin just comes to stay with you at the beginning of the school year? And why the _fuck_ was all this weird stuff happening _today_? I couldn’t just waste an evening at my best friend’s house without weird family drama coming up?

Either way, Mrs. Bodt ushered us and Ymir upstairs to hang out. “Have fun,” she encouraged the tall girl, something sad in her eyes. Ymir just shrugged and started out for the stairs. I followed behind the cousins, confused. 

“Hey, is it better if I go home now?” I asked when we reached the top of the stairs. “I mean, if there’s some family thing going on, I’ll just go, like…I don’t want to intrude or anything.”

“No, it’s okay,” Marco replied. “Ymir’s just going to hang out with us, she’s just visiting.” 

Ymir rolled her eyes. “Oh, for God’s sake, stop acting like it’s some big, shameful secret. Look, you wanna know why I’m here? My friends and I took my dad’s car for a ride this summer, we were pretty buzzed, and when they pull over four kids from the wrong side of the tracks driving drunk, there’s consequences. I didn’t end up in the slammer, but I got kicked out of school and, to be quite frank, my dad doesn’t want me around anymore. I crashed for a month or so with my friend Annie, but once Aunt Claudia caught wind of the situation, she enrolled me in your dumbass Catholic school for this year. It’s total bullshit, too, because I’m already eighteen and legally I can drop out—I mean, that’s what Annie did—but what can I say…she got nonna on the phone, and I have a soft spot for that old bat.”

I just stood there, shocked. She’d just blurted it out like it was nothing, and didn’t even seem that bothered. There was a dangerous glint in her eyes, almost like she was challenging me to say something. 

I did nothing, trying not to offend her. “Anyway,” she shrugged. “Looks like I’ll be moving in with these guys for a while.” She jostled Marco. “Please tell me you’re not as lame as you were the last time I saw you.”

Bianca appeared in the door of her room. “Unfortunately, he is.” 

“Hey, B,” Ymir hugged her cousin. She had an easy inch or two on the older girl.

“Ymir, you punk. How’ve you been? You okay?” Bianca held Ymir at arm’s length, scrutinizing her. 

“Yeah, yeah, just pissed I gotta go back to high school,” Bianca chuckled. “I’m gonna go unpack. I’ll be camping out with nerdo over there until you go back to school and I get your bed.” 

Bianca grinned, heading back inside her room. “All right, ‘Mir, stay cool.”

Ymir was already at the door of Marco’s room, chucking her backpack onto his bed and dumping her duffle bag on the floor. She sat down on it heavily. “Room sweet room,” she said, groaning as she rolled her neck from side to side. “I’m gonna miss all my posters, though. And my sketchbooks. Dear ol’ dad probably got rid of those already.” she smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Marco, you don’t mind if my friends come over sometimes, do you?”

He shrugged. “Not really. I mean, mine are over all the time, so why not yours?”

“Sweet.” she whipped out an ancient Nokia from the pocket of her army jacket. “They’ll be here in thirty.”

She dialled a number as she left the room and walked down the hall. Marco exhaled heavily and sat down on his bed, pushing Ymir’s backpack onto the floor. “She’s a piece of work, eh?” I asked, trying to lighten the mood. Marco didn’t laugh.

“Ymir’s the… _problem child_ of the family. Her mom died when she was nine, and not long after that her dad’s business fell through. They ended up in this dumpy house in the bad part of town, she fell in with a rough crowd, and I don’t know much else. I haven’t seen her in about a year.” 

“Rough. But she seems cool. You know, tough. She fends for herself.”

“I guess. I feel sorry for her, a little.” I just nodded, coming to sit next to him. “Sorry it was today. We probably should have gone to your house.” 

“Tomorrow.” I said. Then we fell silent. “Hey, I know. Let’s go to Sasha’s!” I suggested. 

“I almost feel like I need to stay to keep an eye on Ymir and her friends. Don’t want them shooting up in here or something.” Marco smirked half-heartedly—he was only half-kidding. “Stay?”

“Only for you, dude,” I said, raising my eyebrows. “I wouldn’t babysit just anyone’s wayward cousin.” 

“Thanks.” 

“No problem.”

  
“No, seriously, Jean, thank-you. She’s hard to deal with—I appreciate it.” I just shrugged. Ymir burst into the room, cursing loudly. 

“Fucking-” She only then seemed to notice us staring at her. “Sorry. One of my friends can’t get here because he has to watch his dumb kid brother. You got an Xbox?” 

“Uh, we have a Wii,” Ymir rolled her eyes. 

“Are you nine years old?” she smirked derisively. “What’s your _bowling_ high score?”

“We have a bunch of Legend of Zelda games,” he shrugged,  “I think we actually, uh, lost the Wii Sports disc a while ago.”

“Hm. A bit of Zelda never hurt anyone.” Ymir walked out the door, squinting at her phone. As an afterthought, she turned and yelled over her shoulder, “Feel free to join!” 

Marco sighed for what seemed like the millionth time, and we lapsed into silence. Suddenly, my phone started buzzing violently in my pocket. We both jumped a mile, and I took my phone out. The screen read _incoming call from Bottomless Pit_. 

“Sasha?” My heart was still racing from the surprise.

“Hey,” She sounded vaguely embarrassed. “Where are you guys?” 

“Uh, Marco’s house, why?” We often went our separate ways after school—what made today different?

“Because I bought _three whole pies_ this afternoon, and I know you guys _love_ pie.” _Oh,_ I realized, _she’s lonely_. She didn't want to say it, but what can you do-only children learn to recognize loneliness in each other.

“Gimme a sec.” I held the phone away from my face. “Sasha’s trying to get us over there. She bought pie to bribe us. Bianca can check in on Ymir and her friends, let’s go.”

Marco considered it for a second before shrugging. “Well…I guess. Ok. Tell her we’ll be there in ten.”

“Ten minutes. Don’t finish the pie without us!”

“Don’t count on it.” I could hear the smile in her voice. I hung up the phone and shoved it back in my pocket. 

“All right,” I yanked Marco to his feet. “Let’s roll.” He was smiling, too, and I was filled with a warm feeling. I liked making my friends happy, and in less than two minutes I’d cheered two of my best ones up. 

We told his parents where we were going, reminded Bianca to look in on Ymir once in a while, and headed out. I could feel fall in the evening air as we walked, and it finally hit me that summer was over. Eight months until the next time we had hot weather and nothing to do. 

Rounding the corner towards Sasha’s house, I broke out into a grin. A figure sat on the roof, silhouetted against the darkening sky, and as we approached, she turned and waved at us. “Where’s the pie?” I shouted.

Sasha’s laugh rang out brightly, and I broke out into a grin despite myself. “Get up here, _then_ we’ll talk pie.”

“Heartless wench!” I shook my fist at the air. She laughed again. We let ourselves in (the spare key was always in the planter by the mailbox) and climbed up to the roof to meet Sasha. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry it's been forever since the last chapter!! school got CRAZY you know how it is  
> but i'm on summer break now so i'll try to stay more on top of this mmkay


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